The Dragon of Solitude
by Nexio
Summary: Caius had it good as a thief; gold, drink, and a secret deal with the Emperor. But when a mission goes awry in Skyrim, he finds himself in the center of political struggles, war, and of course, the coming of an ancient prophecy. And in the center of all this, will he even find time to foster a romance with a fair-haired jarl?
1. Chapter 1

The Dragon of Solitude

1

Emperor Titus Mede sighed at his desk. The dim candle light illuminated the notes before him. All of the papers contained dour news, guard reports the guards had decided were important enough to warrant his attention, and one small, hastily scribbled note. Just one word.

Morndas, it wrote. Black ink, and wrinkled from being crumpled, most likely from someone's pocket. Most certainly not a piece of parchment to just be sitting on the Emperor of Cyrodiil's desk. And yet it did. Just one simple word, and et it held all of the meaning to Titus.

There was a knock on his door, three in quick yet firm succession. Before the Emperor even had a chance to muster a "come in", the door opened, and a young imperial Oculatus agent entered. Or, it looked that way to anyone but the emperor.

He could easily tell the armor was made for a larger man than the one standing before him, meant for someone else. Add to the fact that each Oculatus guard was hand-picked by Titus, and he definitely did not pick this imperial. Or rather, the imperial refused to be chosen. "Who's armor did you take, Caius?" THE emperor asked. He folded his hands on his desk as he waited for a reply.

The younger imperial said nothing as he closed the door, locked it, and waited for a few moments. Once he was satisfied, he turned his blue-eyed gaze to the emperor. "I'm afraid that is a need to know basis." He said simply.

"I think if one of my personal guards had a his armor stolen, and the thief walks into my office, I should be included in this 'need to know' basis, don't you think?" Titus cleared his throat. "Besides, I can already guess who it is."

The younger man shifted his weight slightly. "You could just tell them that I'm a more important agent than they are, and should be allowed access without all these 'tresspassing', and 'possible assassination attempt ' ideas in their heads."

"They're doing their jobs, Caius."

"They're doing it poorly."

Titus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his eyes. Caius was definitely an overgrown child at times, and yet Titus couldn't imagine anyone else for the task at hand. "I'm sure you've heard about things escalating in Skyrim," he changed the subject.

"Civil war, possible secession from the empire, what's not to love? "

And now the good part, Titus mused silently. He put his hands together before him, crossing his fingers over his knuckles. "Elenwyn is there now." The younger imperial pursed his lips into a thin lime, for once without a quirky remark. The emperor continued. "It's under the head of overseeing the talos worship ends, but I think she intends on fanning the flames even more."

Caius began to pace. "She's almost as bad as your wife."

"Caius…"

"I know, I know. If she has her fingers wrapped up in Skyrim politics, the Empire will crumble." He stopped pacing, face grim. "We're at the brink of another war with the Dominion."

Titus nodded, mirroring the other man's expression. "She wishes to divide us."

"Titus, I'm not a soldier. I'm a thief."

"I know. I have enough soldiers in Skyrim right now. I need you, someone I trust."

"You need someone immune to political tie down." He let out a low, almost feral sigh. "Alright, I'll go along with whatever plan you have, but this doesn't change anything between us, Emperor."

Titus smiled. It was, truthfully, the best result he could ever hope to get with the man. It was little more than a small miracle to get him to go along with plans. And in these dark times, Titus feared, they would need all the miracles they could get. "Thank you, Caius."

"Don't spoil it, old man."

* * *

Caius opened the doors to a small tavern in the Waterfront district. A musty, smoky smell assaulted his nostrils as he walked through the threshold. He wrinkled his nose. By now, he had changed into simple leather armor, dyed black, with a pair of swords on his waist. The Oculatus armor would only draw the worst kind of attention in this place. Besides, he had returned that armor, begrudgingly, because of the emperor.

He walked up to the orc bartender. "Gazra, I need something strong."

The orc looked him over with an amused look. She smirked. "Big job coming up, Caius.?" She asked as she handed him a drink. Caius looked over his shoulder to watch the other patrons; an old redguard with one eye with a rather feral looking bosmer, two female khajiit twins murmuring quietly to each other, and a rather incapacitated dunmer who had already fallen out of his chair. He nodded to himself. The usuals.

"Something like that." He took a long drink. "What do you know of Skyrim?"

Gazra snorted as she wiped down a mug with an old rag. "You're kidding, right?" at the imperial's neutral expression, she sighed. "Cold, war, and filled with a people who are the embodiment of bar drunks."

"That seems to be the general consensus." Caius agreed grimly.

"Have to say," she said, leaning on the bar counter in front of him baring her tusks in a grin. "Didn't think you were one to take a job over in big bad Skyrim. Always figured you to be a…noble thief. Take from the rich and snobby. Not steal from drunks."

The imperial chuckled at that. "I owe someone a favor, unfortunately. "

"Find someone's long lost lover that went to war? Take revenge on some cowardly bandit that stole a treasured heirloom? C'mon, you can tell your pal Gaz."

"Oh, you know, steal important documents from Thalmor diplomats to prove they're trying to start another war."

It took the orc several long ,omens to determine whether or not Caius was telling the truth. "Never knew you to be that suicidal, Caius."

Caius laughed. "You know me," he shook his head. "Danger finds me whether I like it or not."

Gazra only smiled and shook her head. "And when are you leaving for this heist?"

"Tomorrow, actually. "

"Aww, came to say goodbye to me and the gang, then? You're so sentimental. "

"There will never be another bar to replace this one up there," Caius promised. He sighed. "What did I owe you for the drink?"

"Consider it my going away present, and to remind you what you're missing so you get back here quickly. " Caius could only smile at that.

* * *

 **A/N:** HI everyone! Finally got around to posting one of my fics. Just a warning, there are many things I disagreed with in Skyrim, so I took the liberty to...alter...things, some of them very obvious, and several of them are from my own mind, and the inspiration of a few mods. When I get to the changes based off a mod, I will put credit in my notes. :3


	2. Chapter 2

A stolen horse and three days later found Caius in Bruma. He only stayed one night before he set off towards the mountain path that lead to the border Skyrim. The cold wind buffeted him and he grunted. The closer he got to this land the more he wanted this mission to be over with. Just go in, grab some documents, and be back in Gazra bar within the end of the week.

"I still can't believe he talked me into this," he said to the horse. The beast merely trudged further up the path, ignoring his rider. Caius took that as an invitation to continue. "I'm serious, he always does this. 'Oh Caius, go spy on this councilor, oh Caius, I think a servant went off with a spoon, oh Caius, go into a warzone and steal some documents from an evil elf inquisitor." He sighed. "I swear that man is just an overgrown man-child."

The horse snorted at that. Caius glared down at the animal with mock offense. "Of course he is. Only ever contacts me a few times a year, usually to keep tabs on me and let me know his power-hungry wife and 'mommas boy' son are okay, and alive, and-" he paused, lifting his head up. There, just over the sound of the wind, shouting? He heard the clashing of blades and frowned. Curiosity more than anything drove him forward, stopping the horse and continuing to the sounds of battle on foot. No need for a massive beast to draw attention to himself.

He stayed low, crouched in the snow. In the midday light he would be easily noticed in his armor. Gods, why didn't he have some white leather armor? "I really, really, _really_ hate the snow," he grumbled under his breath as he moved closer to the sounds.

He saw movement ahead of him, through the trees. _Interesting,_ he thought, slipping behind a bush. In a small clearing, a camp was under attack. Caius quickly sucked in a sharp breath as he saw the combatants.

Imperial Legionaires fighting Stormcloak soldiers. What a great first impression. He shook his head siletly. A simple skirmish meant nothing to the young imperial. His mission was more important than a few disputes. He saw enough.

Caius heard a crunch in the snow, and turned just in time to watch the pommel of a sword hit his temple. There was a brief flash of searing pain, and Caius could have sworn he heard a roar in the distance. And then the world went dark.

* * *

The jostling of the wagon jolted Caius into awakening. Being a thief, he had trained himself to minimize the time "waking up", as he so called it. There was only sleep or wakefullness. No in-between. He blinked his eyes open to a wagon full of Stormcloak soldiers. He tried to speak, but a sharp pain in his head blurred his vision. He let out a small grunt of pain. When his vision cleared he was looking at his hands, bound at the wrist with a thick rope. Captured.

"So youre finally awake," one of the Stormcloaks said. Caius looked at the blond soldier and nodded slowly. He then grimaced as his head pounded with the movement. "They hit you pretty hard on the head. How are you feling?"

"Like I got hit in the head with something metal." Caius said blandly. He wasn't in the mood to throw any snarky retorts. He was bound in a wagon with a group of rebels. He had a relatively good guess as to how this was going to turn out. "They're taking us to some prison or something?"

The stormcloak gave him an incredulous look. "I forgot; you were caught trying to cross the border. Got caught in the cross hairs of the ambush."

"Something like that," the imperial mumbled. He tugged at the bindings on his wrists. The thick rope dug tightly against his skin. He grimaced. He looked at the only Nord that didn't have the Stormcloak armor on."And you?"

The nord, thin and frail compared to the warriors sitting around him, weakly smiled, though his eyes betrayed his fear. "I ahh, same as you, got caught up in the ambush."

His fingers were twitching wildly, and Caius could see the dark rings under his eyes, and the abrasions under his nose. Skooma. The imperial had seen the results enough times to know that this poor man was starting to go through withdrawal.

The stormcloak sighed. "You and the horse thief have horrible luck." At first, Caius thought he was the one referred to as the horse thief, but then realized the blond nord was speaking to _him_.

Caius almost spoke, but the addict nord interrupted. "What's wrong with him?" he nodded toward the silent mountain of a man sitting beside Caius. The imperial barely even realized the man was there. He hadn't contributed to the conversation at all. And then he ralized why. The man, decorated in furs and the armor of a high-ranking Stormcloak, was muzzled with a thick gag in his mouth. He was watching the conversation with a stern gaze.

The blond stormcloak gaped at the other nord for a moment. "Don't you know who this is? It's Ulfric Stormcloak!" The leader of the rebellion.

Caius started. He had never seen the bear of a nord before. Only in writing was he ever described, and vaguely. But if the empire could end the rebellion here and now...he turned to look at the gates of the town they were entering. "If that's Ulfric," he began solemnly. "Where are they taking us?:

The blond nord glanced at Ulfric before speaking. "To Sovngarde."

* * *

 **A/N:** Okay, I'm just gonna say, this chapter is a little slow. It's dialogue heavy with not too much actuon. What do you expect, it's the intro to the game! :Please

Next chapter will be longer, I promise!


	3. Chapter 3

Caius never did enjoy thinking about death. He knew it happened; he witnessed it far too many times in his life for death to be a surprise for him. His mother, the other children on the streets, poor sods that wandered into the wrong alley late at night. Death followed him like a hungry dog. But it was a strange feeling, realizing his own death would soon be at hand.

As the wagon pulled into Helgen, the small town turned Imperial fortress, he looked down at his hands. The rope tying his wrists together was strong and almost new; nearly no strands were fraying. His weapons were gone. At the very least they let him keep his armor. He plucked a lockpick from within a fold of his leather boots. He wasn't planning on joining Death today.

He risked a glance up as he heard a ruckus. He noticed a small entourage of Thalmor jusicars along with a high-ranking Imperial officer. And between them was the emissary herself. Elenwynn examined the incoming wagons as though they contained skeevers instead of men. Caius lowered his head as she turned her gaze toward him. He didn't wish for her to become familiar with his face, not just yet. After all; he had a mission to complete.

The skooma-addicted nord began to panic, muttering rapid prayers to the divines under his breath. The Stormcloaks all had matching, dour expressions. It was quite easily the end of their rebellion. The ideals would live on, but without Ulfric to rile them, thereally would be little more than a slight tension, not a full out war. Caius risked a glance at Ulfric. He gazed back calmly into the Imperial's blue eyes. Watching. Examining. Trying to determine the reason he was on a cart with the nords, heading toward his death.

Caius, on the other hand, wondered how _convienient_ it was that Ulfric Stormcloak was captured the moment Caius entered Skyrim, and the plan was orchistrated with help from the Thalmor. Which was equally strange; why would the Thalmor help with _anything_ , even if it meant to end a civil war? _Maybe the Thalmor are actually good people,_ he thought darkly, smirking at himself. What a stupid thought.

The wagon lurched to a stop, and the prisoners tensed in unison. Caius stared at the chopping block in the center of the square. Well, this was going to be interesting. They were all forced off the wagons and rounded up in small groups, at least four guards to each group, with a fifth that was checking off a list. Checking off the prisoners to make sure none somehow escaped. Typical Legion procedure.

The young nord Legionaire that was assigned to Caius' group glanced up at the Imperial, confusion plain on his face. "Who...are you?" he asked. He glanced over at his captain for a split second, before looking back to the Imperial.

In that split second, Caius thought of several responses, but decided to go with the simplest one. "I'm Mehrunes Dagon," he said bluntly. It earned him a smack on the back of the head from the nearest guard, right on the sore spot from earlier. "Ow! Fine. Caius. Not every punishment has to be on my poor skull!"

The nord guard looked at his list, then turned to his Captain. "He's...he's not on the list."

Caius opened his mouth to ask if he was free to go, but was interrupted by the captain herself. "He goes to the block, same as the others."

"That's hardly necessary," the thief began. A bolt of fear struck his heart. This was NOT how he hoped this would go. "I'd prefer to keep my skull attached to my neck."

She gazed back at him with cold eyes. "You shouldn't have been spying on something that wasn't your concern."

"It was hardly spying. More like...watching with disinterest." This time, Caius dodged the other guard's attempt at a backhand. The captain did not bother responding, rather letting the headsman know they were ready. The Nord guard paused to give Caius a sympathetic look before following.

There was a roar of...something...off in the distance. "What was that?!" a guard asked. "Probably just a bear," another responded. The hair on Caius' neck stood on edge. Unless bears in Skyrim were different from bears in Cyrodiil, that was most definitely _not_ a bear. Nobody else seemed to be bothered by the bear-but-not-a-bear's roar. The executions began.

The first Stormcloak that knelt before the Headsman's axe died with dignity, or rather, with what dignity one could have bound and forced to have their head chopped off. Caius flinched as he stared at the pool of blood that quickly formed over the chopping block. He kept working with the lockpick, trying desperately and as inconspicuously as possible to fray the rope bindings. He was NOT going to die today.

"Next, the Imperial." The Captain's voice was still cold. Another roar responded to her before Caius could begin to protest. It was closer, this time. A _lot_ closer. The Imperials and Stormcloaks both noticed this time, everyone seeming on edge. Except for the captain. "I said, next prisoner!"

"Come to the block, prisoner, nice and slow," the young nord legionair said softly. Caius glanced up at the archers above him on the ramparts of the fort. They all had arrows trained on him, in case he would rather have a showy death. He obeyed quietly, mind racing too fast with fear to think of a clever response. A guard forced him down onto his knees, neck touching the bloodstained chopping block. It was still warm. Caius watched the headsman raise his axe, too paralyzed to react.

Another roar, and then something large, and black, landed on top of the tower above Caius. It's massive landing shook the ground, causing the headsman to stumble. For a long, terrifying moment, the creature's glowing red eyes met Caius' light blue ones.

Then it opened its reptilian maw and...roared, or said something. Yelled, more like. The ground shook again and the clouds swirled. The wind picked up; instead of the cold Skyrim air, though, it was warm. Uncomfortably warm. The swirling clouds darkened. And then the first fireball descended. It struck the Headsman directly in the chest. It incinerated the poor man almost instantly.

The scent of burning hair and flesh assaulted Caius' nostrils, and he jerked away from the exploding embers. Fight or Flight response kicked in. He was _not_ going to get incinerated and eaten by a...a... _dragon_. It was really the only word that came to mind in the chaos. Soldier and prisoner alike scrambled, trying to find a weapon to defend against such a beast. Thick black scales covered its body, and the red eyes watched with an intellect that made it more than just a mere animal. Caius had seen the Imperial emblem so many times; this creature had to be a dragon. No doubt about it.

He nearly collided with another Imperial as he ran. His thief instincts grabbed the dagger at the man's belt. Caius didn't feel remorse for disarming another person. Besides, he had a bow. Caius slipped the dagger between his bindings and felt a liberating slice as the rope cut. Freedom. Now all he had to do was not die by fireballs or stray arrows and he could slip away.

"Hey, you! Imperial!" The blond Stormcloak-Ralof; Caius vaguely remembered his name being checked off the list, shouted. The Stormcloaks were huddled within a guard tower. Caius sprinted to them, narrowly dodging another fireball. He stumbled into the doorway, dagger still clutched tightly in one hand.

"What in Oblivion is that-that THING!?" Caius panted.

"A dragon," a stormcloak whispered fearfully, yet there was a tint of awe lacing his voice as well. "But they're supposed to be legends!"

"Legends don't burn down buildings," a deep voice said, almost calm. It was one Caius had never heard before. He looked over to see Ulfric Stormcloak staring at them, gag removed. The tower walls trembled as the dragon roared and flew past them. "We need to move. NOW! Up the tower!"

Caius didn't need to be told twice, even by a supposed enemy. He followed them up the tower's winding stairs. Almost halfway up, however, the group of soldiers in front of him were suddenly thrown back down as the dragon's head smashed through the wall. Screams of pain and agony were heard.

The dragon's mouth opened again, and roared something else. Flames spewed from its massive maw, the heat making the air crackle. Once it was over, the dragon flew off, apparently more interested in catching groups of people out in the open than in the tight confines of a building. Caius looked up the stairs. "It's blocked off!" he shouted. "We can't go up."

"We have to go across," Ulfric said. He led them across a small wooden platform. There was another hole in the wall, and Caius saw the burning ruins of a building beside it. "Go," the Stormcloak leader said to him. Caius looked down. The house still looked sturdy. They could probably still land without worry of a collapse. Still, he hesitated. "We're right behind you." There was a split second where Caius mentally laughed at the fact the Stormcloaks were willing to follow a spy, but then jumped. He would do whatever he could to survive.

He landed hard on his feet. The impact jarred his entire being, and he grunted. Neither the wooden floor nor his bones shattered, though. He ran, not looking back at the Stormcloaks to see if they were following. He heard the dragon roar overhead, and he dropped down a hole in the floor.

Now he was back out on the ground. He watched the dragon snatch an archer from another tower, and Caius took his chance. He bolted from the burning house to a stone wall. He nearly ran into the young nord Legionaire that had showed sympathy to him. "Still alive, prisoner?" he asked. "Then follow me if you want to stay that way!"

Caius followed. The two of them probably had a better chance than a whole group of Stormcloaks. They ran to the fortress, and the Legionaire slowed as the Stormcloak Ralof ran to them, but stopped a short distance away. "Ralof, you traitor!" the Legionaire snarled, seeming to forget about the dragon that was terrorizing the town.

"I'm not the traitor here, Hadvar," Ralof said. "The Empire is the traitor! We're leaving, and there's nothing you can do to stop it!" He glanced at Caius. "Come with me, we can escape together!"

Hadvar looked at Caius as well. "You don't really believe him, do you! I can help you!" Without waiting for an answer as the dragon's roar sounded overhead, both men ran into a separate doorway.

Caius let out a groan of exasperation. As much as he personally disliked the Legion-they tended to get in the way of being a thief-he still had more respect for them than the rebellious Stormcloaks. He followed Hadvar into the fortress, and hopefully, to freedom.

* * *

 **A/N:** This chapter took forever for me to write, and I'm not particularly happy about how it turned out. As I was going over the intro sequence (I had to look it up because I use the mod Random Alternate Start to skip the intro stuff), I realized that the Ralof/Hadvar part near the end was kind of stupid. I mean there's a freaking DRAGON flying around and they decide now's the time to have a petty little "omg you traitor" moment. And don't worry Stormcloak/Ralof fans. He'll be back :P

Next chapter: Riverwood and beyond!


End file.
